Most nights before bed I walk a well worn path into the woods where the animals gather and I deposit

mounds of food here and there.  I go to the edge, turn around, and begin my food distribution on my return to the house.  My flashlight may catch the glowing eyes of a deer before he thunders away into the darkness or a pair of shiny raccoon eyes looking my way.  Sometimes a fox.  Most unique of all is this:  there is a tiny but exceedingly bright light that sometimes catches the rays from my flashlight and sparkles brilliantly like a star that has fallen to earth.  Is that a diamond, or some precious jewel that someone lost long ago?  Much to my surprise, over and over again when I follow the reflected rays I come upon the same creature--a small grey spider, facing my direction.  She makes her appearance in mysterious ways and in many locations but always like a shining star on the ground, in the grasses, quiet and still, looking at me.  I marvel at how her eyes can create this brilliant burst of color that I can see from so very far away.  When I get close enough to see her, the brightness dissipates completely as her little grey body comes into view.  I could reach down and touch her but that is not to be done.  It is said that Grandmother Spider weaves the fabric of the universe that holds everything together.  My youngest sister died this week alone in her bed.  My brother found her in the morning.  I feel sad, and angry, but this death comes as no surprise.  As her son told me, he has been expecting this for most of his life.  She was 52 and my nephew is 21.  I could criticize and condemn her behaviors, her lifestyle, but couldn't I just as easily have followed a similar life of addiction, of living deep in shadow, afraid of my own light?  I think that's very possible, so when judgments form in my mind I try to stop myself and let the feelings come up.  Are we not all connected and reflections of one another?  I am no better, I am only lucky that somewhere, somehow some healing choices came my way and for whatever reasons, no matter, I grabbed a hold of them and took a different journey.   Still, I am not immune to disease, tragedy, or death.  She lived her life the way she chose and don't we all want the freedoms to live the way we want, not tethered to cultural norms and societal rules that make no sense to us?  The pain and consequences we inflict on others cannot, perhaps, be justified, but knowingly or unknowingly, we are tools, we are instruments of a vast and diverse universe that is composed of expressions that are unique and infinite.  All stars eventually burn out.  Hers was an especially bright one, oftentimes blinding.  May you rest in peace, Amy.  You will be missed by many.